Man of Steel
by Until We Fall
Summary: Cunningham watches his son recover from afar. Cute pointless drabble :


"Doctor, the biopsy results you ordered are ready for evaluation."

"And?"

"The sample has tested negative for Squamous Cell Carcinoma."

A plume of smoke rose from a slowly smoldering cigarette, barely hanging onto the lips of a very tired diagnostician. Gabriel Cunningham let out a long, drawn-out sigh. Three hours and two glasses of brandy later, he was starting to think he was running around in circles.

He furrowed his brows in frustration, putting a puzzled hand to his chin. He said nothing, bright afternoon sunlight pouring in from a window to the left, illuminating the disheveled stacks of paper that littered the desk's oak surface. It was evident that cleanliness didn't rank high on Cunningham's list of priorities.

Files and folders containing patient information lay strewn about, arranged in seemingly nonsensical ways; but it was organized chaos, and the good doctor is, somehow, usually able to glean what he needs.

It's only a matter of time…

"Are you hungry, Doctor? Shall I order a hamburger? The satiation may prove useful in aiding your thought process."

"RONI, there are some days when I imagine dismantling you. Then maybe it'll be quiet around here for once." The frustrated Cunningham huffed under his breath, taking a last remaining drag of his cigarette.

"I would strongly advise against that, as destruction of Resurgam property may result in felony charges."

"You weren't supposed to hear that! -"

The scrape of small wheels against gravel drew the disgruntled doctor's attention toward the large window.

"Joshua?"

A boy teetering unsteadily on a skateboard as it coasted across the parking lot below did very much resemble Cunningham's son. He sported the same mop of untamable hair, the same knobby knees and fair skin. Joshua even still wore his hospital gown beneath a light jacket.

"What is this?" Cunningham grumbled, "I didn't authorize a discharge. What the hell does Lisa think she's doing?"

"Technically Doctor, they have not left the hospital premises and have therefore broken no protocol."

If RONI had a neck, Cunningham would've strangled it.

The diagnostician easily recognized his ex-wife reclined on a bench. She was supposedly "supervising" the boy, but clearly seemed more interested in the book she was reading...at least in Cunningham's opinion anyway.

"Wha-She's not even watching him!" Cunningham exclaimed, "Instead she's getting off to sparkling vampires or 50 Shades of Grey or whatever crap women are reading these days!"

She flipped a page, sending a quick glance at her charge every now and again.

"And why isn't he wearing any protection?" he continued, "He's recovering from gastrointestinal surgery. You'd think she'd have our son put on a helmet or some elbow pads for Christ's sake."

"Symptom of fatherhood observed: Increased agitation." The lights on the computer's screen flickered to validate her decision.

Cunningham sighed. Noticing the accuracy of RONI's observation, he straightened his composure as though he never lost his cool demeanor to begin with.

"It's not like that." He growled, "Kid doesn't even know I'm his father. We both agreed it'd be better that way."

"My sympathies, Doctor."

As Cunningham continued to watch them from his perch three floors up, he noticed the boy's backpack leaned against the bench-particularly, the adornment clipped onto it.

Although the distance made it slightly difficult to identify, to him, there was no mistaking that figure in the blue suit and red cape.

"It's Superman." He remembered saying, an impatient Lisa crossing her arms and huffing. They stood outside Joshua's hospital room, each small beat from the boy's heart making a _blip_ on the monitor.

"I know it's Superman," she said flatly, "What would I want with it?"

"It's not for you, it's…it's for Joshua. You said Superman was his favorite, right?"

For a moment, Lisa said nothing. She simply scowled and stared, like a ravenous wolf sizing up its meal. Uneasiness ran like electricity from the back of the physician's neck, all the way down his spine; it's rare that Lisa went for so long without saying a word. For what seemed like eons, they stood in silence as throngs of surgeons, doctors, nurses, visitors and other personnel tugging along all kinds of equipment shuffled down the crowded hallways, brushing past them as they went.

"Spiderman, Gabe" she finally said, "his favorite is Spiderman."

With one swift movement, she snatched the object from his hand, quickly making her way back to the hospital bed where their son lay.

"So, she gave it to him after all." Cunningham grumbled to himself, reaching into his pocket and fumbling for another cigarette.

"I beg your pardon, Doctor?"

The doctor's lips curled into a smirk, "Nothing. Let's have another look at those results."


End file.
